Thirteen years ago, I adopted my late husband’s secret twin daughters after his fatal car crash revealed his double life. I gave them everything, but at sixteen, they locked me out of my home. One week later, I discovered the shocking reason for their actions.
The morning Andrew died began like any other. The sun had just started peeking through my window, painting everything in a soft, golden light that made even my shabby countertops look almost magical.
It was the last normal moment I’d have for a long, long time.
When the phone rang, I almost didn’t answer it. Who calls at 7:30 in the morning? But something, intuition maybe, made me pick up.
“Is this Ruth?” A man’s voice, formal, hesitant.
“Speaking.” I took another sip of coffee, still watching the steam dance.
“Ma’am, I’m Officer Matthews with the Police Department. I’m sorry to inform you, but your husband was in an accident this morning. He didn’t survive.”
The mug slipped from my hand, shattering against the linoleum. Coffee splashed across my bare feet, but I barely felt it. “What? No, that’s… no… not my Andrew!”
“Ma’am…” The officer’s voice softened. “There’s more you need to know. There was another woman in the car who also died… and two surviving daughters. Records in our database confirm they’re Andrew’s children.”
I slid down the kitchen cabinet until I hit the floor, barely registering the coffee soaking into my robe.
The room spun around me as ten years of marriage shattered like my coffee mug. “Children?”
“Twin girls, ma’am. They’re three years old.”
Three years old. Three years of lies, of business trips and late meetings. Three years of another family living parallel to mine, just out of sight. The jerk had been living a whole other life while I’d been suffering through infertility treatments and the heartache of two miscarriages.
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure I was. Not really. “What… what happens to them now?”
“Their mother had no living relatives. They’re currently in emergency foster care until—”
I hung up. I couldn’t bear to hear more.
The funeral was a blur of black clothes and pitying looks. I stood there like a statue, accepting condolences from people who didn’t know whether to treat me like a grieving widow or a scorned woman.
But then I saw those two tiny figures in matching black dresses, holding hands so tightly their knuckles were white. My husband’s secret daughters.
One had her thumb in her mouth. The other was picking at the hem of her dress. They looked so lost and alone. Despite the hurt of Andrew’s betrayal, my heart went out to them.
“Those poor things,” my mother whispered beside me. “Their foster family couldn’t make it today. Can you imagine? No one here for them except the social worker.”
I watched as one twin stumbled, and her sister caught her automatically like they were two parts of the same person. Something in my chest cracked open.
“I’ll take them,” I heard myself say.
Mom turned to me, shocked.
“Ruth, honey, you can’t be serious. After what he did?”
“Look at them, Mom. They’re innocent in all this and they’re alone.”
“But—”
“I couldn’t have my own children. Maybe… maybe this is why.”
The adoption process was a nightmare of paperwork and questioning looks.
Why would I want my cheating husband’s secret children? Was I mentally stable enough? Was this some form of revenge?
But I kept fighting, and eventually, Carrie and Dana became mine.
Those first years were a dance of healing and hurting. The girls were sweet but wary as if waiting for me to change my mind. I’d catch them whispering to each other late at night, making plans for “when she sends us away.”
It broke my heart every time.
“We’re having mac and cheese again?” seven-year-old Dana asked one night, her nose wrinkled.
“It’s what we can afford this week, sweetie,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “But look — I put extra cheese on yours, just how you like it.”
Carrie, always the more sensitive one, must have heard something in my voice. She elbowed her sister.
“Mac and cheese is my favorite,” she announced, though I knew it wasn’t.
By the time they turned ten, I knew I had to tell them the truth. The whole truth.
I’d practiced the words a hundred times in front of my bathroom mirror, but sitting there on my bed, watching their innocent faces, I felt like I might throw up.
“Girls,” I started, my hands trembling. “There’s something about your father and how you came to be my daughters that you need to know.”
They sat cross-legged on my faded quilt, mirror images of attention.
I told them everything about Andrew’s double life, their birth mother, and that terrible morning I got the call. I told them how my heart broke when I saw them at the funeral and how I knew then that we were meant to be together.
The silence that followed felt endless. Dana’s face had gone pale, her freckles standing out like dots of paint. Carrie’s lower lip trembled.
“So… so Dad was a liar?” Dana’s voice cracked. “He was cheating on you?”
“And our real mom…” Carrie wrapped her arms around herself. “She died because of him?”
“It was an accident, sweetheart. A terrible accident.”
“But you…” Dana’s eyes narrowed, something hard and horrible creeping into her young face. “You just took us? Like… like some kind of consolation prize?”
“No! I took you because—”
“Because you felt sorry for us?” Carrie interrupted, tears streaming now. “Because you couldn’t have your own kids?”
“I took you because I loved you the moment I saw you,” I reached for them, but they both flinched back. “You weren’t a consolation prize. You were a gift.”
“Liar!” Dana spat, jumping off the bed. “Everyone’s a liar! Come on, Carrie!”
They ran to their room and slammed the door. I heard the lock click, followed by muffled sobs and furious whispers.
The next few years were a minefield. Sometimes we’d have good days when we went on shopping trips or cuddled together on the sofa for movie nights. But whenever they got angry, the knives came out.
“At least our real mom wanted us from the start!”
“Maybe she’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you!”
Each barb found its mark with surgical precision. But they were entering their teens, so I weathered their storms, hoping they’d understand someday.
Then came that awful day shortly after the girls turned sixteen.
I came home from work and my key wouldn’t turn in the lock. Then I spotted the note taped to the door.
“We’re adults now. We need our own space. Go and live with your mom!” it read.
My suitcase sat by the door like a coffin for all my hopes. Inside, I could hear movement, but no one answered my calls or pounding. I stood there for an hour before climbing back into my car.
At Mom’s house, I paced like a caged animal.
“They’re acting out,” she said, watching me wear a path in her carpet. “Testing your love.”
“What if it’s more than that?” I stared at my silent phone. “What if they’ve finally decided I’m not worth it? That I’m just the woman who took them in out of pity?”
“Ruth, you stop that right now.” Mom grabbed my shoulders.
“You’ve been their mother in every way that matters for thirteen years. They’re hurting, yes. They’re angry about things neither of you can change. But they love you.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because they’re acting exactly like you did at sixteen.” She smiled sadly. “Remember when you ran away to Aunt Sarah’s?”
I did. I’d been so angry about… what was it? Something trivial. I’d lasted three days before homesickness drove me back.
Five more days crawled by.
I called in sick to work. I barely ate. Every time my phone buzzed, I lunged for it, only to be disappointed by another spam call or a text from a concerned friend.
Then, finally, on the seventh day, I got the call I’d longed for.
“Mom?” Carrie’s voice was small and soft, like when she used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms. “Can you come home? Please?”
I drove back with my heart in my throat.
The last thing I expected when I rushed through the front door was to find my house transformed. Fresh paint coated the walls, and the floors gleamed.
“Surprise!” The girls appeared from the kitchen, grinning like they used to when they were little.
“We’ve been planning this for months,” Dana explained, bouncing on her toes. “Working at the mall, babysitting, saving everything.”
“Sorry for the mean note,” Carrie added sheepishly. “It was the only way we could think of to keep it a surprise.”
They led me to what used to be their nursery, now transformed into a beautiful home office. The walls were soft lavender, and there, by the window, hung a photo of the three of us on adoption day, all teary-eyed and smiling.
“You gave us a family, Mom,” Carrie whispered, her eyes wet. “Even though you didn’t have to, even though we were a reminder of everything that hurt. You chose us anyway, and you’ve been the best mom ever.”
I pulled my girls close, breathing in the familiar smell of their shampoo, feeling their hearts beat against mine.
“You two are the best things that have ever happened to me. You gave me a reason to keep going. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“But we do know, Mom,” Dana said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “We’ve always known.”
4 Epic Stories About Entitled Soon-to-Be Spouses Who Got What They Deserved
Entitlement can turn even the happiest moments into unforgettable disasters. These stories reveal how selfish behavior can test patience.
Love might be blind, but entitlement can be impossible to ignore—especially when wedding bells are near. These soon-to-be spouses took their demands to shocking new heights, leaving everyone around them speechless. Here are four epic stories of entitled soon-to-be spouses who pushed too far—and got exactly what they deserved.
My Fiancée Decided to Lock My Daughter up to Exclude Her from Our Wedding—I Overheard It and Came up with a Plan
I met Emily three years after my wife’s death. Losing Karen had shattered me. She was the person that I thought I would grow old with, and more importantly, Karen was the mother of our precious daughter, Amy.
Flowers on a grave | Source: Midjourney
There were days when I thought that I’d never heal from the loss of my wife, but as time went on, I knew that hope would come.
“It’s okay to feel your feelings, Jim,” my mother would say. “But it’s also okay to dream of a new start. Nobody will ever replace Karen. Not for you, nor for Amy. But it’s okay to want joy.”
A mother and son talking | Source: Midjourney
And meeting Emily made me feel like it was a fresh start. After a few months of dating, I decided to introduce her to my daughter, who was nine at the time.
“Are you sure, Jim?” Emily asked me, her eyes wide, when we were at dinner.
“Yes,” I reassured her. “Don’t get me wrong, Em. I think we’re great together, but I can only continue this relationship if you get along with my daughter.”
A couple at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“No,” Emily said, sipping on a cocktail. “It’s understandable, and I absolutely agree with that. Your daughter comes first.”
To my relief, they hit it off immediately. Amy, always so perceptive, even at her young age, was thrilled to have another woman in her life.
A smiling woman and little girl | Source: Midjourney
“I think Emily is pretty cool, Dad,” Amy told me when we went out on a little father-daughter ice cream date.
“So, you like her?” I asked, trying to navigate the situation from my daughter’s point of view.
“I do, Dad,” she said, picking the cherry off her sundae.
An ice cream sundae | Source: Unsplash
Two years later, I proposed to Emily.
Of course, by this time Emily had woven herself seamlessly into our family, and even Karen’s parents seemed to think that her influence was good on Amy.
A man proposing to a woman | Source: Unsplash
I was thrilled. I never wanted my in-laws to think that I was replacing Karen or hiding away her memory. I just wanted a sense of happiness.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
But as Emily and I threw ourselves into wedding preparations, lines started to get blurred.
“I can’t wait to be a flower girl, Dad,” Amy said, twirling around the living room, pretending that she was wearing a fancy dress.
“I can’t wait for that either,” I replied.
A smiling little girl | Source: Pexels
But, during a conversation about the ceremony, Emily suggested that her nephew take that role instead.
“What changed? I thought Amy was going to be the flower girl,” I asked, puzzled.
“Oh, she can still be involved. I just think it might be cute to have little Joey as the flower boy,” Emily replied, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
A little boy in a suit | Source: Pexels
“No, Emily. Amy is my daughter and she’ll be the flower girl. They can do it together, but Amy will have her moment.”
Emily didn’t argue further, but I noticed a flicker of annoyance cross her face. I brushed it off, thinking it was just pre-wedding stress.
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
The night before the wedding, I found myself sitting in Amy’s room, tucking her into bed. She looked up at me with her beautiful eyes.
“Are you excited about tomorrow?” she asked.
“I am, sweetheart,” I replied, smoothing her hair. “But it’s also a little scary, you know? Big changes.”
A little girl climbing into bed | Source: Pexels
“Do you think Mom will be happy?” she asked.
Her question pierced my heart. I thought about Karen, about how she would have wanted me to find happiness again.
“I think she would be, Amy.”
A little girl tucked up in bed | Source: Midjourney
When the day of the wedding arrived, everything seemed perfect. The venue was stunning, with all shades of pink woven together. I was walking down the hallway, waiting to head to the altar, when I heard Emily’s bridesmaids talking behind a door.
“Em was clear. We need to accidentally lock Amy in the dressing room before the ceremony,” a voice said.
A groom standing by a door | Source: Midjourney
“Is she insane? The kid is her future stepdaughter. Why should we do it?” another voice replied, incredulous.
“Emily said that she cannot stand seeing Amy right now. She found photos of Jim’s wife and Amy looks identical to her,” someone explained.
“And so what? Emily can’t stand the fact that a child looks like her mother? I want nothing to do with this.”
A group of bridesmaids standing together | Source: Midjourney
My blood ran cold.
Anger surged through me. How dare they plan to exclude my daughter? I took a deep breath and composed myself.
I had to find my daughter.
“Dad!” Amy said when I opened the door to the dressing room where I knew my mother and Amy were.
An angry groom | Source: Midjourney
“Stay with me,” I said, pulling her close. “You don’t have to walk down as a flower girl. You can walk down the aisle with me.”
My daughter beamed and threw her arms around my neck.
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
As the ceremony began, Emily walked down the aisle, radiant in her wedding dress, a smile plastered on her face. But when she saw Amy, her expression shifted from joy to shock.
There was my daughter, standing right beside me.
Emily reached me, her eyes wide with fury.
A groom standing at the altar | Source: Midjourney
“What is she doing here?” she hissed.
I kept my voice low but steady.
“What? Are you surprised to see Amy?”
“Jim, she was supposed to be… I mean…” Emily stammered, trying to recover.
“Supposed to be in a locked room? Is that what you mean, Emily?” my voice rose, and the guests started to murmur, sensing something was wrong.
“Jim, I…” she began.
I turned to the audience.
A close-up of a bride | Source: Midjourney
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said loudly, addressing the audience. “I have something to share with all of you. It appears that Emily and her bridesmaids had planned to lock my daughter, Amy, in a dressing room to prevent her from being a part of this wedding. They did this because Emily couldn’t stand Amy reminding her of my late wife.”
Gasps and murmurs of shock rippled through the crowd. Emily looked mortified.
“Jim, please, I can explain,” Emily pleaded, her voice desperate.
Guests seated at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
“Explain how you thought it was okay to hurt my daughter! To exclude her from this important day in our lives!” I demanded, my voice shaking with emotion.
Amy stood at my elbow, looking confused but brave.
“Emily, I thought you loved Amy as much as you claimed to love me. But your actions show otherwise.”
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
“Jim, I was just… I didn’t want to be reminded of your wife,” Emily’s voice trailed off.
“Of my past? Emily, my past is part of who I am. Amy is a part of who I am. And if you cannot accept that, then you don’t belong in our future,” I declared, my decision made.
The room fell silent.
Emily’s bridesmaids exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to do.
“What now, Jim?” Emily asked me, her shoulders slouched.
A group of bridesmaids | Source: Midjourney
“This wedding is off,” I announced. “I will not marry someone who would go to such lengths to hurt my child. We’re done here.”
Tears filled Emily’s eyes, but she knew there was no arguing with me. Not when it came to my daughter.
Emily turned and walked out, her bridesmaids trailing behind her.
I knelt down to Amy’s level, hugging her tightly.
A father hugging his daughter | Source: Midjourney
“No one will ever come between us, sweetheart,” I whispered.
The guests, still in shock, began to applaud. I stood up, took Amy’s hand, and led her down the aisle, not as a bridegroom but as a proud father who stood up for his daughter and his family.
The following day, I took my daughter out for breakfast. I needed to have a moment alone with her, ready to answer any questions she may have.
A table at a coffee shop | Source: Unsplash
“Are you sure it was a good idea not to marry Emily?” Amy asked, pouring syrup onto her waffles.
“Yes, sweetheart,” I declared clearly. “Do you think it would have been right to marry Emily after she locked you in a room during the ceremony?”
Amy shook her head slowly and picked up a strawberry.
“No,” she replied. “But she did make you happy, didn’t she?”
A person pouring syrup on waffles | Source: Unsplash
“For a moment,” I said truthfully. “But when I thought about what lengths she would go through, just to make herself happy… No, darling, then she did not make me happy.”
“I’m glad, Dad,” she said, smiling at me.
And in that moment, I knew that I had done right by my daughter.
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
My SIL Demanded I Pay for Their $3k+ Wedding Dinner–I Gracefully Brought Her Down to Earth
I’m Natasha, and I have to admit, life with Emmet has been nothing short of amazing. We’ve been together for three years, and every day, I’m reminded of how lucky I am to have found someone like him.
A man kissing a woman in a floral dress | Source: Pexels
Emmet is my rock, my confidant, and my best friend. Our love has only grown stronger over time, and it felt like the natural next step when he proposed.
One evening, as we were cuddled up on the couch, Emmet turned to me with a tender look in his eyes. “Natasha,” he said, his voice soft and serious, “I’ve been thinking about our future a lot.”
I teased him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? And what grand plans do you have in mind, Mr. Dreamer?”
A delighted couple lying in bed and cuddling | Source: Pexels
He chuckled, pulling me closer. “I’m serious. I want us to get married. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
My heart swelled with joy. “Emmet, I feel the same way. Let’s do it.”
A year ago, my dad passed away and left me his inheritance. He had made it clear that part of it should be used for my wedding.
It was a bittersweet gesture: losing him was incredibly hard, but knowing he wanted to be part of my future in this way warmed my heart.
A sad woman sitting alone in her room | Source: Midjourney
“Your dad was a good man, Natasha,” Emmet said softly, squeezing my hand. “He’d be so happy to see us get married.”
Three weeks ago, we excitedly announced our engagement to Emmet’s family. Adam, Emmet’s brother, and his fiancée Nancy seemed thrilled, or so I thought.
But then, a week later, and out of the blue, Adam announced they would get married in just two weeks. The news took everyone by surprise.
A happy couple hugging outdoors | Source: Pexels
“Did you know about this?” I asked Emmet, confused.
He shook his head. “Not a clue. They haven’t mentioned any plans.”
I couldn’t help but wonder how they were managing this sudden wedding, given that they had recently asked me for a loan.
Two weeks later, we found ourselves at the most expensive restaurant in the city, celebrating Adam and Nancy’s whirlwind wedding with about 20 other guests.
The interior of an elegant restaurant | Source: Freepik
The place was beyond stunning, with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the room, soft music playing in the background, and a view of the skyline that took my breath away.
“Can you believe this place?” Emmet whispered to me, his eyes wide with amazement.
I nodded, still trying to wrap my head around it. “It’s beautiful. But… how are they affording this?”
The interior of an elegant restaurant with golden ornaments and crystal chandeliers | Source: Pexels
Dinner was extravagant. Plates of lobster, filet mignon, and endless bottles of champagne adorned the table. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, but I noticed Emmet eyeing the price of each dish with concern.
“Emmet,” I murmured, leaning closer, “there’s no way they can afford this. They must have some kind of help.”
He nodded, his jaw tight. “I know. Let’s just see how the evening plays out.”
A plate of lobster and other expensive dishes | Source: Midjourney
Just as dessert was being served, Nancy turned to me with a wide, expectant smile.
“Natasha,” she began, her voice dripping with a sweetness that immediately put me on edge. “You’ll pay for our dinner, right? It’d be an amazing present.”
I blinked, trying to process her words. “What do you mean? Emmet and I already gave you a wedding gift.”
Plate of dessert at the restaurant | Source: Freepik
“Oh, stop it,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “You got a huge inheritance, and it’s so hard for you to pay for a $3,000+ dinner?”
Her voice echoed through the room, and suddenly, all eyes were on us. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. I glanced at Emmet, who looked equally stunned. Nancy had always been a bit entitled, but this was beyond belief.
A group of people sitting at the dining table together | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “To stop this nonsense, Emmet and I will pay for ourselves. Next time, either go to a place you can afford or at least warn us about it.”
The room fell silent. Nancy’s face turned a deep shade of red, her eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. Meanwhile, Adam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact. I could feel the weight of everyone’s gaze, the shock, and curiosity as they watched the scene unfold.
A woman warning someone at the restaurant | Source: Pexels
Nancy opened her mouth to retort, but I held up a hand. “No, Nancy. This is not how you treat family, or anyone for that matter. We’re happy to celebrate with you, but this is not our responsibility.”
Emmet squeezed my hand under the table, a silent show of support. I could see the admiration in his eyes, proud that I stood my ground.
A woman after saying what’s on her mind | Source: Freepik
As the dinner concluded, I discreetly spoke to the restaurant manager and arranged for Emmet and me to pay for our meals. I wanted to handle this as gracefully as possible, but I knew the fallout was inevitable.
As I rejoined the table, I saw the confusion on the faces of our guests when they realized they had to cover their own meals.
Confused guests at the restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Nancy, sensing the mounting tension, tried to salvage the situation. “Oh, it must be a misunderstanding. Natasha, are you sure you won’t cover it? You know how tight things are for us.”
I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “I’m absolutely sure, Nancy. Why did you even throw such a lavish dinner party when you knew you couldn’t afford it?”
Natasha being firm on not paying the bill | Source: Midjourney
The room fell silent as the guests processed what was happening. Some were visibly annoyed, like Emmet’s cousin Mike, who muttered under his breath, “This is ridiculous.” Others simply refused to pay, walking out in a huff.
The manager, sensing the brewing storm, stepped in. “Ladies and gentlemen, if we could settle the bills promptly, that would be appreciated.”
A man is annoyed during a family dinner in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
In the end, most guests grudgingly paid their share, but the damage was done. Our family began to see Adam and Nancy for who they truly were: entitled and exploitative. The couple’s attempts to leverage my inheritance had backfired spectacularly.
Our wedding day arrived a few months later, and it was everything we dreamed of. Surrounded by loved ones who genuinely cared for us, we celebrated without the shadow of entitlement hanging over us.
The wedding day | Source: Pexels
The ceremony was held in a beautiful garden, the sun casting a warm glow over the scene. Emmet looked dashing in his suit, and I felt like a princess in my lace gown.
As I walked down the aisle, my heart swelled with happiness. My mom, holding back tears, whispered, “Your dad would be so proud.”
A bride holding flowers on her wedding day | Source: Midjourney
The ceremony was simple yet heartfelt. Our vows were filled with promises of love, support, and partnership. Emmet’s voice shook with emotion as he said, “Natasha, you are my heart, my soul, and my everything. I promise to stand by you, through good times and bad, for the rest of our lives.”
Tears streamed down my face as I replied, “Emmet, you’ve been my rock, my best friend, and my love. I promise to cherish and support you, no matter what life throws our way.”
A bride and groom at their wedding ceremony | Source: Midjourney
After the ceremony, we moved to the reception area, decorated with twinkling fairy lights and elegant floral arrangements. We had funded our wedding with part of the inheritance and our savings, making it a truly personal and cherished occasion.
Towards the end of the night, I found a quiet moment with Emmet. “Can you believe we’re married?” I asked, resting my head on his shoulder.
A bride and groom dancing | Source: Pexels
He kissed the top of my head. “I can, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As we looked around the room, I spotted Adam and Nancy standing off to the side, looking somewhat subdued. They hadn’t caused any trouble since that night at the restaurant, and I hoped they had learned their lesson.
Nancy approached me tentatively. “Natasha, I wanted to apologize again for the dinner incident. We were out of line.”
A sad woman at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
I nodded, appreciating her effort. “Thank you, Nancy. I hope we can all move forward from this.”
As the night wound down, Emmet and I took a moment to soak it all in. We stood outside, under the stars, feeling the cool breeze against our skin.
“This is perfect,” Emmet said, wrapping his arms around me. “Just perfect.”
A bride and groom watching the starry night sky | Source: Midjourney
I smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. “It really is. Here’s to our future, Emmet. Together, we can face anything.”
And with that, we stepped into our new life, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came our way.
My Fiancée Spent Our $10K on Her Wedding Dress without Warning—I Made Sure She Learned Her Lesson with Our Honeymoon
You know how your wedding day’s supposed to be the happiest day ever? Well, mine turned into a financial nightmare I’ll never forget, thanks to my wife Elly’s $10K shopping spree. Buckle up. You’re about to hear how our entire budget became a single dress, and how I turned our honeymoon into a lesson Elly won’t forget…
An upset man leaning on a wooden table | Source: Pexels
Let me give you some backstory. We had a small, rough budget for our wedding. Nothing fancy, just a modest event with about 30 guests, hosted on a family friend’s property.
We were even making the decorations ourselves and ordering our wedding cake from Costco. The trade-off? A very expensive honeymoon. I trusted Elly to buy her wedding dress. She promised it wouldn’t be expensive. But then, I found out she spent $10K on a dress. That was almost our entire budget. I was LIVID.
A stunning wedding gown on display in a bridal boutique | Source: Midjourney
“Elly, what were you thinking?” I exploded when I found out. “That was our entire budget!”
“Mark, you’re being ridiculous,” she said, examining her nails. “It’s just a little splurge. Don’t I deserve to look like a princess when I walk down the aisle?”
My eyes narrowed. “That’s rich, coming from someone who didn’t lift a finger to save for this wedding,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
But Elly didn’t show a grain of remorse. She was so cool about blowing up my hard-earned money on an expensive wedding gown she wasn’t gonna wear again.
An annoyed man in red T-shirt covering his face | Source: Pexels
You see, all my life, I’ve watched my widowed Mom work tirelessly, saving every penny for my future. That’s where I learned the value of hard-earned money, starting young with my piggy bank.
And though I’m in a well-paying job now, that doesn’t mean money rains from the skies, right?
Just like me, Elly wasn’t born into a wealthy family with a silver spoon in her mouth. And she needed to grasp the importance of spending wisely.
A little boy putting coins in a piggy bank | Source: Pexels
And you know what? Her entitled attitude set my blood boiling. She acted as if our wedding was a spectacle for her to showcase herself, rather than a celebration of our commitment.
As the wedding day approached, I couldn’t shake off my anger. But I had a plan brewing.
Close-up of a young woman running her finger through her hair | Source: Pexels
The big day came and went. Despite the financial setback, we managed to pull off a decent ceremony. But I was far from over it.
After the wedding, we drove to the airport for our honeymoon in Miami. As we pulled up to the departures, I turned to Elly with a smile.
“Cheers for driving, babe. See you when I get back in a week!” I said, slamming the trunk shut after grabbing my luggage.
Grayscale photo of man standing with a suitcase | Source: Pexels
Elly’s face scrunched up in confusion. “When you get back? Mark, what’s going on? We’re going together, right?”
I could see the panic setting in as realization dawned on her.
“Remember that budget we talked about?” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Well, after your little shopping spree, we had just enough left for one person to enjoy the sun in Miami. Guess who?”
A shocked woman covering her face | Source: Pexels
Elly’s eyes widened in disbelief. “This isn’t funny, Mark,” she hissed. “My dad will make your life hell if you pull this stunt.”
My teeth ground together as I spoke. “Oh, now it’s Daddy to the rescue? Where was he when you were shopping for that overpriced gown?”
Elly’s face contorted, her voice climbing octaves. “This is insane! You’re leaving me behind? On our honeymoon?”
An angry woman holding her head | Source: Pexels
“And you blowing our entire savings wasn’t insane?” I fired back, my patience gone. “Actions have consequences, Elly. Maybe this will teach you to think before you act.”
I hefted my bag onto my shoulder. Elly tried to plead with me, but I was resolute. I waved her goodbye and walked into the airport.
A man with suitcase in an airport | Source: Unsplash
As I made my way through security, I could hear her yelling from outside. “Mark! Come back here right now!” But I didn’t give in.
As I settled into my seat on the plane, a pang of emotions swirled in my chest. Part of me felt guilty, but a bigger part felt justified. As the plane took off, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d gone too far. But then I remembered how casually she’d dismissed my concerns about the dress.
Close-up view of an airplane taking off | Source: Unsplash
I pulled out my phone and saw a barrage of messages from Elly:
“How could you do this to me?”
“I can’t believe you left me at the airport!”
“My parents are furious!”
I sighed and typed out a response: “Elly, I hope you understand why I did this. We need to talk when I get back.”
Close-up of a man holding a smartphone | Source: Pexels
The week in Miami was… interesting. I tried to enjoy myself, but guilt kept creeping in. I spent most of my time by the hotel pool, thinking about Elly and our future.
On the third day, I got a call from my mom.
“Mark, what were you thinking?” she asked, her voice brimming with concern and disappointment.
I sighed. “Mom, you know how hard I worked for that money. She needs to learn—”
“And you think this is the way to teach her?” Mom interrupted. “By abandoning her after your wedding?”
An older lady talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. Maybe I had taken it too far.
“What should I do, Mom?” I asked, feeling lost.
She paused for a moment. “You need to talk to her, Mark. Really talk. Not yell, not accuse. Talk.”
The flight back home felt longer than the one to Miami. My stomach was in knots as I thought about facing Elly.
A man sitting by the window in an airplane | Source: Midjourney
As I walked out of the airport, I saw her waiting by the car. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
“Hi,” I said softly, approaching her.
She didn’t respond, just unlocked the car and got in. The drive home was silent and tense.
A young woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash
When we got home, we sat down at our kitchen table, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
“I’m sorry,” I started. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. It was cruel and immature.”
Elly’s eyes welled up with tears. “Do you have any idea how humiliated I felt? Standing there at the airport, watching you leave?”
I reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away.
An upset woman covering her face | Source: Pexels
“I know,” I said. “And I’m truly sorry. But Elly, do you understand why I was so upset about the dress?”
She wiped her eyes. “Because it was expensive?”
“It’s not just about the money,” I explained. “It’s about trust, about making decisions together. We had a plan, and you completely disregarded it without even talking to me.”
Grayscale shot of a distressed woman’s teary eyes | Source: Pexels
Elly was quiet for a moment, then spoke softly. “I guess I never really thought about money the way you do. In my family, if we wanted something, we just… got it, even if it demanded us to take a loan.”
I nodded. “I know. And I should’ve explained better how I feel about finances. But Elly, we’re a team now. We need to make these decisions together.”
Elly reached out and took my hand. “We both messed up, didn’t we?!”
I squeezed her hand. “Yeah, we did. But we can learn from this, right?”
Close-up of young couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
Over the next few weeks, Elly and I had many long conversations about money, trust, and our future together. We set up a budget, opened a joint account, and promised to always discuss big purchases before making them.
One night, as we were going over our finances, Elly looked up at me. “You know, I’ve been thinking about my wedding dress.”
I tensed up, worried we were about to have another argument. “What about it?”
An anxious man covering his mouth | Source: Pexels
She smiled softly and gestured towards the elegant wedding gown on the hanger. “I’m going to sell it. We can use the money to go on a proper honeymoon, together this time.”
I felt a wave of relief and love wash over me. “Are you sure? I know how much that dress meant to you.”
A bridal gown on the wardrobe | Source: Freepik
Elly reached out and took my hand. “Not as much as you mean to me. Besides, our marriage is about more than just one day, right?”
I pulled her into a hug, feeling like maybe, just maybe, we were going to be okay.
In the end, it wasn’t just about the dress or the money. It was about trust and partnership. I wanted Elly to realize that a marriage is built on mutual respect and shared responsibilities. And sometimes, tough love is the only way to get that message across.
A young couple hugging each other | Source: Unsplash
My Fiancé Made Me Pay $25K for Our Wedding & Didn’t Show Up–The Reason Made Me Merciless
Jeff proposed to me six months ago, and I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful evening under a starlit sky, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he slipped the ring onto my finger.
A man proposing | Source: Pexels
“Phoebe,” he said, “let’s make this the wedding of our dreams.”
I always imagined a modest ceremony, something intimate and personal. But Jeff had other ideas.
“It’s once in a lifetime, Phoebe,” he insisted, his persuasive charm hard to resist. “We deserve a gorgeous wedding, something everyone will remember.”
When the time came to discuss finances, Jeff offered a seemingly reasonable solution.
“You handle the wedding expenses, Phoebe. I’m in the process of buying us a house.”
Man and woman walking hand in hand outdoors | Source: Pexels
It sounded fair to me, so I agreed on a budget of $25,000. We went all out: a lavish venue, and a renowned wedding planner whom I hadn’t even met because Jeff wanted to surprise me.
The big day arrived, and I felt like a princess stepping into the grand hotel. Guests were milling around, but there was no sign of Jeff. My heart pounded as I scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of my groom.
Beautiful bride standing by a window and looking away | Source: Pexels
Panic set in. I rushed outside, fumbling with my phone, desperately trying to reach our wedding planner. Finally, she picked up.
“Emily? It’s Phoebe. I’m Jeff’s fiancée. I’m at the hotel, but I can’t find Jeff.”
“Jeff Jenkins?” she replied, her tone sharp and confused.
“Yes!” I almost shouted, my voice trembling.
“Is this some kind of joke? The ceremony was yesterday.”
Her words hit me like a sledgehammer. I felt my knees buckle, my vision blurring. This couldn’t be happening.
A bride texting on her phone | Source: Midjourney
Suddenly, a man grabbed my arm, his grip firm yet frantic.
“Get your hands off me!” I demanded, turning to face him.
His face mirrored my shock. “I’m sorry, I’m Mike. I was supposed to get married here today too, but my planner said the ceremony was yesterday. I think we’ve been scammed.”
Mike’s revelation was like cold water splashed on my face. We both entrusted substantial amounts of money, only to be left stranded and humiliated.
A bride talking to a man | Source: Midjourney
“Turns out our partners, Amy and Jeff, were lovers. They concocted this plan to fund their own wedding using our money,” Mike revealed, disappointment all over his face.
The betrayal hit me hard, but the shock soon turned into a strong determination.
A bride looking away | Source: Midjourney
“We need to find them, Mike. They can’t get away with this,” I told him.
Fueled by a shared sense of outrage, we pressured the wedding planners, threatening legal action until they finally cracked and confessed where Jeff and Amy had gone for their honeymoon.
“The Maldives,” Emily had said, avoiding our eyes. “An exclusive resort.”
I looked at Mike, determination set in my eyes. “They think they’ve outsmarted us, but they’re in for a surprise.”
Bride talking to a man | Source: Midjourney
We pooled our resources and booked the next flight to the Maldives. By the time we reached the resort, we were in a storm of anger and conviction.
There, by the pool, lounging like royalty and sipping on expensive cocktails, were Jeff and Amy. They looked blissfully unaware of the storm about to hit them.
Mike clenched his fists. “Time for some payback.”
We approached them, and their carefree laughter died abruptly as they spotted us. Their faces drained of color, shock, and panic flaring in their eyes.
A man and woman sitting by the pool | Source: Midjourney
Jeff stammered, “Phoebe, what are you doing here?”
I felt a cold smile curve my lips. “Taking back what’s mine.”
We reported them to the resort management, presenting all the evidence of their fraudulent scheme. The staff acted swiftly, kicking them out of the resort with a speed that was almost gratifying.
But that wasn’t enough for us. We wanted to ensure they faced the full consequences of their actions. Mike and I made calls, leveraging social media and legal threats to get them blacklisted from all the resorts in the area.
A man and women at the reception area of a hotel | Source: Midjourney
The crowning achievement, however, was having them arrested for fraud. As they were led away in handcuffs, Jeff turned to me, desperation in his eyes.
“Phoebe, please, this is a misunderstanding!”
I met his gaze with icy resolve. “Enjoy your honeymoon, Jeff. In jail.”
Mike and I celebrated our victory with a bottle of champagne, courtesy of the resort. They felt terrible about the situation and wanted to make amends.
A man and woman celebrating with glasses of wine | Source: Midjourney
Our victory in the Maldives was just the beginning. Once we returned home, we wasted no time filing a lawsuit against Jeff and Amy, seeking reimbursement for the money they had swindled from us.
The case quickly gained significant media attention, turning our ordeal into a public spectacle. In court, the atmosphere was tense. Jeff and Amy sat on the defendant’s bench, their expressions a mix of defiance and desperation.
People in a courtroom | Source: Midjourney
The judge, a stern woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, listened intently as our lawyer laid out our case. Mike and I watched as the prosecution presented mountains of evidence: bank statements, emails, and testimonies from the wedding planners who had finally come clean.
When it was time for the verdict, the judge didn’t hold back.
A female judge | Source: Midjourney
“This court orders Jeff Jenkins and Amy Wilson to repay Phoebe and Mike the full amount of $50,000, plus an additional $10,000 each for emotional damages. This fraudulent behavior will not be tolerated.”
I felt a wave of relief wash over me as the judge’s gavel came down.
“Justice served,” I whispered to Mike.
He nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Indeed. Now, let’s move on and enjoy our lives.”
A man and woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few years, Mike and I stayed in touch, supporting each other through the aftermath of the ordeal. Our shared experience created a bond that grew stronger with time. We talked often, shared our ups and downs, and found solace in each other’s company.
Man and woman on a date | Source: Midjourney
One evening, about three years after the court case, Mike invited me over for dinner. As we sat in his cozy apartment, reminiscing about our journey, a quiet moment of understanding passed between us.
“Phoebe,” Mike said, his eyes earnest. “I’ve realized something over these years. You’ve become more than a friend to me. I don’t want to just share memories of our past; I want to build a future together.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Mike, I feel the same way. We’ve been through so much, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”
A man and woman smiling at each other | Source: Midjourney
Our relationship blossomed from that night. We found comfort and love in each other, knowing we had both endured the same betrayal.
One spring afternoon, as we strolled through a blooming garden, Mike suddenly stopped. He got down on one knee, holding out a ring that sparkled in the sunlight.
“Phoebe, will you marry me?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and love.
Tears of joy welled up in my eyes. “Yes, a thousand times yes!” I exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace.
A couple staring at each other against the backdrop of the sunset | Source: Midjourney
Our wedding day was everything we had hoped for—modest yet beautiful, surrounded by close friends and family. The ceremony was held in a charming garden, the air filled with the sweet scent of flowers.
As I walked down the aisle towards Mike, I felt a sense of peace and happiness I had never known before. We stood before our loved ones, our hands intertwined, and exchanged vows that came straight from the heart.
Bride walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney
As we shared our first kiss as husband and wife, the applause of our guests echoed around us. It was a moment of pure joy, a celebration of a love forged through adversity.
Bride and groom exchanging vows | Source: Midjourney
Later, at the reception, Mike raised his glass for a toast.
“To new beginnings,” he said, his eyes meeting mine with a twinkle.
“And to the sweetest revenge,” I added, clinking my glass with his.
Newlyweds toasting their glasses | Source: Midjourney
Our journey, once marked by deceit and betrayal, had transformed into a story of true love. We had turned a nightmare into a dream, finding happiness where we least expected it.
Bride and groom dancing during golden hour | Source: Midjourney
If these stories of entitled behavior and well-deserved karma kept you entertained, there’s even more drama waiting for you. From fiery confrontations in coffee shops to brilliant acts of revenge in unexpected places, this collection is packed with jaw-dropping moments.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. These stories are provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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